West of Forever (Heartstone Ranch #1)(26)

“Oh, stop being such a baby. It’s a dance. You know everyone here, and there are always more women than men. Suck it up, big brother.”

I’m going to make her pay for this.

She takes both my hands in hers, grinning in her triumph as the song begins. Holding Mary Lou’s hand, I take two steps to the right. Two steps to the left. Then I stop, kick my right ankle, then my left, face to the right, bump hips, and spin her to the next man in line.

Over and over, I go through the steps, politely smiling to the new woman who blushes or bats her lashes at me.

I really do hate Mary Lou right now.

It goes on for much longer than three minutes, and then, standing in front of me, is Lark.

I watch as her eyes register my face and she clears her throat.

My hand is extended, and she places hers in mine.

We move together, neither of us looking at the other. I can feel others’ gazes, watching to see whether we’ll do anything, but her brothers are here, and it would take next to nothing to start a fight. So I keep my eyes forward and try not to think about how warm her hand is, how when she moves in to bump my hip, I get a hint of roses from her hair. How, for the last thirty seconds, having her hand in mine has felt like coming up for air after drowning.

No, I don’t think about that.

I don’t look at her.

But as soon as I spin her and she moves to the next man, I feel her loss, and I fucking hate myself for it.









Chapter 8





Lark




Do not panic.

Do not look back.

Just breathe, Lark.

I repeat that over and over as I keep moving through the next two cowboys until the song finally ends.

Suzanne rushes over, grabbing my hands in hers. “Oh my God, you had to dance with Tristan!” she freaking yells. Seriously, like the entire bar could hear.

“Shut up,” I whisper. “I’m aware.”

“Was it horrible? I bet it was.” She lifts my hands up.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking to see if the Devil burned you. Somehow you guys survived helping at the store, but this was a dance!”

I roll my eyes. “Stop it. You’re as bad as my brothers. It was a barn dance that I had no control over. Relax.”

She laughs. “Speaking of your brothers…”

Ryan and Deacon walk over, both looking furious. “You danced with him?”

Dear God. One would think they’d tire of this shit. “I didn’t know you both watch me so much.”

“We do.”

“Lucky me.”

Deacon snorts. “You’re damn right you’re lucky, Lark. You should’ve skipped him.”

“Let’s just grow up for a minute, please.”

Skip him. Please, the last thing I wanted to do was skip him. I wanted to scream at him to look at me. To take me in his arms and kiss me. To get us out of here and do much more.

Which was the tequila talking, and thankfully it was all in my head and not out loud.

But, yeah, there was no chance of me skipping a chance to dance with Tristan.

Seeing him here was completely unexpected, and after our last encounter, I was hoping for more time to get over these stupid feelings I keep having for him. A month or two isn’t too much to ask. I went six months before seeing him on the side of the road—I don’t know what a girl has to do to get a stretch like that again.

A cooling-off period.

One where I can get my head straight and not think of his brown eyes, that thick dark hair that he pushes back before slipping his hat on, and that fucking scruff. God, I’d like to ride that.

Ugh.

Not what you should be thinking about, Lark.

Ryan shakes his head. “I get that he was nice to you—once—but that doesn’t erase the years of horrible shit they’ve done.”

Considering I already stepped in it with Ryan, reminding him of his own mistakes, I let that go and do my best to look contrite. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll skip him.”

Deacon huffs out a long sigh and then clasps Ryan’s shoulder. “Come on. We got shit to do early tomorrow. I don’t feel like hanging out anymore.”

Which is Deacon talk for…I’m not mature enough to be in the same room as a Stone.

Ridiculous.

Ryan looks to Suzanne. “You got her?”

Suzanne grins. “Of course.”

They both leave, and she turns to me. “Wow.”

“Yeah, way to help the situation,” I grumble.

“What did you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, distract them or something.”

She laughs. “Your brother is a professional at pretending I don’t exist.”

“Yes, because he’s in love with you,” I remind her.

“Whatever. He has a horrible way of showing it,” Suzanne says, staring after their retreating forms.

She’s loved him just as long, but the two of them refuse to make a move. It’s honestly one of the most frustrating things I’ve ever watched. At this point, though, I’m done encouraging them. They’re adults—they can figure it out.

I glance around, pretending that I’m not looking for Tristan, but I don’t see him anywhere.